


Body Pillow

by aleria



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-22 13:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleria/pseuds/aleria
Summary: Langa's house is under renovations, and he will need to stay with Reki for the time being. Being so close is going to force them both to examine those feelings that had been steadily growing. Can these two idiots figure it out?----------------(Indulgent cuddling in the forecast. That's it. That the plot. Takes place sometime after Reki and Langa make up. Maybe canon? Lol I wish.)
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 102
Kudos: 663





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Yall ready for some trash?

“Well?” Nanako had her spoon halfway up from her soup, taking pause when she realized her son wasn’t listening again. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence-- Langa was well aware that he drifted off during breakfasts, lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t do it on purpose. His mother rarely scolded or lectured him, leaving the few times they spoke as precious.

Langa’s nature was at fault. He spent a lot of time inside his own head, thinking of snowboarding or skating, of past conversations and ones that might come. He thought about Revelstoke and the mountains he left behind. He thought about his dad and his board. He thought about Reki.

“Ha?”

“The renovations next week,” Nanako insisted with an overabundance of patience. “Do you know where you want to stay yet? I can bring you to Sako’s house with me, but it will be a long way from school.”

Right, the renovations. He had been listening when his mother had brought them up three weeks ago. He had even been listening two weeks ago when she reminded him. Last week when she asked, once again, where he could stay, he had digested the question and let it sit in his stomach like a rock.

Three weeks ago he was fairly sure Reki would take him in during the time it took the contractors to finish the floors in the home Langa shared with his mother. He had meant to ask, but things kept coming up. No, skating had kept coming up. How could he think about renovations when he could think about skating?

And last week? Last week was impossible. The memory of that time twisted his stomach and forced his eyes down to his bowl. He let the silence linger as he replayed the events in his head. A whole week without Reki, his best friend. A whole week of loneliness. The hollow place in his gut was where his mother’s question had sat.

There was no excuse now, though. Since then the friends had made up, and though the reunion was awkward and foolish, it was the best two young idiots could manage. Besides, it had brought them back to the place Langa yearned to be: side by side, skateboarding and laughing. 

Of course Reki would take him in.

“Why don’t you ask Reki?” Nanako asked, making Langa start and nearly drop his own spoon. “He lives so close to the school. I can call up his mother now, if you want.”

“N-no,” Langa managed, forcing a spoonful of soup down his throat. “I can ask.”

Side by side, where they belonged. That was what Langa yearned for, right?

\-------------------

Reki rearranged the books on his desk for the third time: this time in order of colour. Not in the order of a rainbow as most would assume, but by some sense of aesthetic that only he understood.

 _No good_ , he thought.

This time he tried to arrange them by height: the tallest books on the left and then ascending. The problem with this was that most of his ‘tall books’ were actually skateboarding magazines, and the rest were essentially manga. It hardly made him look well-read.

When his mother burst in, unannounced with the futon in her arms, he was in the middle of putting them in deliberately-disheveled piles. In a heartbeat they were scattered on the floor. 

“Mom!” he snapped at her with a tone that made her scowl. He winced and recoiled as she dropped the futon with a ‘humph’ on the ground.

“You better clean up before Langa-kun gets here,” she said in her usually lecturing tone. “His house is probably twice as tidy as ours, and bigger too!” She sighed heavily. “I wish we could afford _renovations_.”

Reki snatched the pillow that his mother still clutched. “I don’t think he cares how clean it is in here,” he said, as if he hadn’t just spent 20 minutes trying to organize his desk. “He’s been over before, you know.”

“Thank goodness you two made up,” she went on, a hand on her cheek. “I was starting to miss him. Why were you fighting, anyway?”

“None of your business,” Reki muttered as he shoved the books under his desk with his foot. 

“Was it over a girl?”

“Mom, come on!” Reki insisted, turning his back to hide any expression that might betray the truth on his face. 

His mother sighed heavily, no doubt lamenting how little she knew about her son as all mothers did at some point. She left, leaving Reki with a very real fear that she was not going to leave Langa alone for the entire week of his stay.

 _An entire week_.

Reki looked around at his room, such as it was. He had broken the frame of his bed not two days ago (a poor place for practising jumps), and had been forced to use a futon not unlike the one his mother had brought in for Langa. The guest futon was the best one, and even Reki hadn’t been allowed to use it. Penance, he realized, for breaking his bed.

He liked sleeping on the floor, but all of his shoes and old boards that had been collecting dust under his old bed were now piled unceremoniously in the corner of the room. Despite the lack of bed, it felt cramped as the wall hangings and piles of clutter seemed to lean into the centre of the room.

It was going to feel a lot more cramped with two boys on the ground.

A shiver ran up Reki’s spine and spread over his shoulders. He shook himself, trying to clear his head and body of the anxious feelings that were threatening to take hold. He needed to move and energize himself. He needed to skate.

He rode his board down the quiet street as the sun was starting to set. The warm colour was starting to catch on the rooves in his neighbourhood and the drying that hung on their balconies. A bird was calling somewhere, an unseen voice on the air. The stillness was almost calming, but the feel of the road under his wheels was much more so. The feeling of inertia was second to none as he flew towards the future. Reki couldn’t help but smile.

Seeing Langa, waiting by the light post as usual, was like hitting a wall. It wasn’t painful, per se, but jolting all the same. He felt tripped up, as if he hit a pebble. If it wasn’t for looking down at his board he would have thought for sure he was about to eat pavement.

His heart was racing in the same way it had a few days ago, when Langa had appeared in the rain, broken board in his arms and a look of sorrow in his eyes. He wasn’t sure his heart had stopped racing since.

“Hey,” he said, trying to muster all of the energy into his tone as he could. “Is that all you got?” He was looking at the single bag of luggage that Langa was sitting on, board over his knees and a stunned look in his eyes. 

“Uhn,” he grunted in affirmation. “Is it not enough?”

Reki laughed, as he always did when his friend got that naive look on his face. Langa was looking at his bag as if there was something wrong with it. “So long as you remembered your uniform,” Reki said, still grinning.

“And my board.”

“Obviously.”

The smile they shared conveyed the most mutual feeling that any two friends could have. 

And Reki’s heart continued to race.


	2. Monday Night

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Langa never considered himself an over-planner. Rather, he was someone who analyzed every situation extensively so that nothing unpredictable would happen. Sure, sometimes he was wrong, especially when it came to human interactions, but for the most part he could save himself any unpleasant shocks or uncomfortable situations.

When his father died, things had been turned on their head. What he knew about his future changed fundamentally, and in a way, it served as a reminder to never get comfortable. More than that, it was a warning that being caught unaware was a horrible feeling, and if possible more analysis was necessary to save oneself from trauma.

When Reki had stopped talking to him, the world once again had been turned over. Langa thought he had a handle of their relationship. If he was good at skating, things would be OK. Skating solved all problems, and was the easiest way to communicate. With Reki it was the emotional lubrication that never let Langa feel too awkward. When in doubt, get on a skateboard.

But this time skateboarding had been the _cause_ of their rift, and once again Langa was facing an eventuality that he had not predicted. He couldn’t blame his friend; Langa was well aware of his own inability to communicate. He sucked at relationships of any kind. 

Somehow they had made up, though. A lame apology and a few tender words had mended a bridge that wasn’t truly broken in the first place. Because, after all, he _did_ know Reki better than anyone else, and it wasn’t just about skateboarding. Sure, Langa didn’t do people very well, but Reki was something else.

The plan thus forward was easy: be the best friend that Reki ever had. Laugh with him, skate with him and continue whatever awkward close relationship they shared, possible forever. Langa wasn’t prepared for anything else, certainly nothing that came close to addressing the questionable thoughts that sometimes wormed their way into his head. What they had was predictable and fit in the analyses he had going forward: Skate. Laugh. Smile.

Nowhere in his plan had there been room for the squirm of warm embarrassment he felt as he watched Reki lay out two futons on the floor of his small room. To be fair, all the rooms in his house were small compared to the home that was currently being renovated, but with the futons laid out it looked ever smaller. Langa was starting to panic” none of this was part of the plan.

“What happened to your bed?” he asked in a small voice from the place where his feet were planted at the doorway. He couldn’t take a step closer, lest the gravity of the situation fall on him. He felt like a deer, ready to bolt the moment anyone came too close. The exit was at the end of the hallway.

Reki looked over his shoulder with a guilty grin. “Don’t ever practice kicks on a wooden frame,” he offered in way of explanation. His smile turned slightly proud, and Langa couldn’t help but crack a grin as well. He had gotten in trouble as a child for mounting his snowboard on the bed. Beds were not made for extreme sports. 

“I forgot-- have you ever slept on a futon before?”

“Nn,” Langa said in agreement. “My grandmother had a traditional home outside the city. It’s OK as long as I have enough pillows.”

“Ah.” Reki looked a little uncomfortable and Langa followed his gaze to the single pillow on the guest futon.

“It’s OK!” Langa said quickly. “This is great.”

Reki was frowning, so Langa was forced to finally pass the threshold of the room and kneel on the freshly made futon. “It’s soft.”

“I’m not allowed to use the guest futon,” Reki said, throwing himself back on his own bedding, hands behind his head. “But I guess mom likes you.”

Langa slowly spread his fingers over the plush comforter, patterned with vines and little blue flowers. The one at his grandmother’s house had been thin in comparison, but intricately sewn like a quilt. There was something fundamentally different about a comforter in Japan compared to Canada, but he hadn’t quite figured out what it was yet. 

“It’s not fancy,” Reki was saying, a hint of doubt in his tone. 

Langa looked at him, searching to learn if the doubt was something more. After all, he had overlooked Reki’s feelings before, which had set him on a downward spiral that ended with them almost losing everything. Langa was afraid he would miss something again: a tone of voice, a frown, an offhand comment... But Reki was looking away as if he didn’t care, or at least, he was pretending not to. He was absently scratching his stomach which poked out from a casual t-shirt meant only as evening wear. His boxers poked out of the top of his pants, vivid with neon colours.

Langa looked away suddenly. There was something about the casual atmosphere, with the feeling of a lazy, pre-bed routine, that reminded him that this was not how things were supposed to go.

He spent the rest of the evening trying not to be reminded of the building panic in his stomach. He closed his eyes in the bath, pretending it was no different than the one at home. He ignored the clothing in the hamper and the deodorant that smelled far too familiar. Even the clean towels he wrapped around himself gingerly, lest they tell a tale of another body. 

He told himself he was just homesick. The only times he had slept away from home was with his grandmother. He never had close enough friends to stay with. After tonight, it was going to get easier-- it had to. He was here for an entire week.

But when they finally settled into bed, early because they had school the next day, the reality dawned on Langa like a face to pavement. Reki was watching a video on his phone, half covered in his comforter and mouth slightly ajar in concentration. His hair was disheveled from pulling off his headband which lay in its own crumpled pile nearby. His free hand was absently twirling a loose lock of hair.

The problem wasn’t that this was someone else’s house. The problem was that this was Reki’s house. This was Reki’s room. This was where Reki was going to sleep.

“Come see this,” Reki said, breaking Langa’s stunned silence. He was already shifting over on his pillow so that Langa could lie close enough to see the phone. “I’m not sure how she does it-- do you think it’s fake?”

Langa put down his pillow and clothing in a neat pile. For a moment he hesitated, wondering if he was supposed to go over the covers or under. How close should they lie?

“Ugh, I have to start it again,” Reki said, and in a sudden movement he grabbed Langa’s tshirt and yanked him onto the futon, where his face hit the pillow with a soft ‘pat’. “Watch. Hang on-- here. Damnit, stupid ads.”

This was fine. Watching a video with Reki was a regular part of their routine. They did this all the time, right? After, they would sleep and everything would be normal. They would go to school and come home for dinner and sleep again and everything would be _fine_. 

After all, Reki was here and he was smiling. Langa considered the alternative and felt a bit of peace settle over him. So long as Reki was happy and they were friends, everything else was noise.

\--------------

This was not fine. This was very much _not OK_.

Reki woke up feeling hot and a weight pressed on his torso. The sun outside was just starting to break and a thin white light was easing in through the open shutters. There was a small commotion in the kitchen, which meant his sisters were awake. The sound of them rummaging in the cupboards had woken him up.

For the first moment for wakefulness, he thought one of his siblings had snuck into his room. It had been a while since any of them wanted to sleep with him, but it was not a far fetch. However, the arm around his waist was long and slim, and the body near his back belonged to someone roughly his own size. There was a soft feeling of heavy breathing on his neck and the unmistaken weight of another head on his pillow.

Reki was facing the wall where he had stacked his old sneaker boxes and there was no way he could roll over without disturbing Langa. He listened instead to the heavy hammer of his heart and wondered how that alone didn’t wake up his friend. Langa was right-- he was a heavy sleeper. His breathing was deep and even, and his arm heavy where it hugged Reki’s stomach.

It was getting hotter, too. Reki could feel his temperature rising by the second, and it might have reached an apex had a heavy knock not scared the life out of him and startle them both into wakefulness.

“Reki-- can you get up and help your sisters please?” came his mother’s voice. Her foot falls carried on briskly down the hallway to the kitchen before he had time to answer. It was just another chaotic morning in the Kyan household. 

Langa had rolled off of Reki with the reflexes of a cat. He now sat bolt upright, eyes wide and an embarrassed look on his face. “S-sorry,” he murmured in a high voice. 

“It’s,” Reki started in a voice that definitely cracked. He cleared his throat. “It’s fine! Heavy sleeper is right!” He forced a laugh.

“Body pillow,” Langa said in a quiet voice, even as he turned away to grab his bag.

“What?”

“I sleep with a body pillow.”

Reki blinked a few times before responding. His mind was still considering the feeling of a slender arm on his waist. “Oh.”

“I must have… mistook you.”

It made sense. Langa was a heavy sleeper and had tried to use Reki (who was also a heavy sleeper, apparently) as a body pillow. It was an honest mistake, and neither of them lost any sleep because of it.

Of course, this did nothing to stop the creep of blush that made its way from Reki’s neck to his ears and over his chest, blossoming like a flame and making it hard to breath normally. “Yeah OK,” he forced himself to say. “No problem.”


	3. Tuesday Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -busts out chapters at the speed of light, shutter shades on and music pumping-
> 
> bitch

“Body pillow? Like, one of those things with anime girls on them?” 

Reki should have trusted Miya to say something condescending. He had posed the question to his younger friend that evening when they gathered at S, not really sure what answer he was looking for.

“Not like that,” Reki replied defensively. “Just like-- one of those pillows you have to hug at night. Like, really long.”

“No, I don’t sleep with an anime wifu,” Miya continued, not looking away from his cell phone. 

“That’s-- ugh, never mind.” Reki turned back to Langa, who was with Shadow trying to see how many times he could spin on the back wheels of his board. They had decided the video they watched last night wasn’t fake enough to stop Langa from trying the trick. Reki let a smile pull on the corner of his mouth. It was just like Langa to look at an impossible trick as a challenge he could master.

When he looked back at Miya, the younger boy had an unhindered smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I’m not sure, but I have to assume that your question about sleeping habits has _something_ to do with the fact that Langa is staying over at your house,” Miya said with some amount of glee.

Reki put on a straight face that did nothing to stop the mounting heat behind his ears. “Kids shouldn’t talk about sleeping habits.”

“Don’t be gross,” Miya said, dropping his grin. “I was talking about sleeping-- I don’t know what _you’re_ talking about.”

“I-- sleeping! I was talking about sleeping too!” It was too late-- the flush was slowly taking over his whole face and Reki was powerless to stop it.

“Whatever,” Miya concluded, brandishing his skateboard. “I don’t want to know what the body pillow is for.” Then he hopped on the board with the lightness of a petal and skated away down the curving path of the main track.

Reki watched him go for only a moment before Langa’s voice drew his eyes back to his friend. He was on his ass, laughing with Shadow. Maybe the trick was impossible after all. Langa was going to be bruised and sore that night, and hopefully the guest futon was soft enough to help.

 _He might need a body pillow after all_ , Reki thought, chewing on his lip. _It can’t be that comfortable spooning me._

The flush that had only just subsided suddenly reappeared everywhere all at once, hot and overwhelming. Reki squatted on the ground, covering his face in his hands and willing the memory of being hugged by Langa away. 

What was it about that moment that was sending him into orbit every time he thought about it? They had hugged before. In fact, he wasn’t sure waking up as a body pillow even counted as a hug. There was something else; was it the smell? Or the fact that it was so comfortable? Or maybe it was starting to bring up some pertinent questions Reki had been asking himself for the past two weeks about the nature of his affection for his friend.

Reki suddenly mussed up his own hair, trying to shake the forbidden thoughts from his head. This was Langa he was talking about. His best friend. Langa, who was the number one prince in the school, who Reki was already fielding love letters for. Langa, who could date any girl in their class if he wasn’t so damned clueless. Langa, who’s cluelessness was one of the reasons he was so goddamn attractive.

“Reki?” 

Reki looked up with a start to see those clueless blue eyes looking down at him with real concern. “Are you OK?”

“Ah, yeah!” Reki stood up too quickly, almost knocking into Langa who pulled away at the last moment. “Great. Awesome! Let’s skate, yeah?” He took two steps and stepped onto his board, in the same direction Miya had disappeared. 

“Wait up!” Langa called, and they both careened down the hill without a further care in the world.

\-------------

Reki’s room was a battlefield, and Langa was thinking about deserting. 

Once again he stood at the threshold of the room, his back to the dark hallway and his eyes of the empty futons on the floor. His side was neatly made. Reki’s barely reassembled a bed.

Reki was quietly washing up and the soft sounds of water were the only sounds in the otherwise sleeping household. If he closed his eyes, Langa could imagine that they were alone in the world. 

So, to avoid that thought, he kept his eyes wide open. In fact, he was going to need to keep his eyes open all night for two very good reasons: 1) When he closed his eyes he drifted off to a fantasy that involved an unhealthy amount of cuddling for someone who was supposed to be your best friend and; 2) If he fell asleep his body was apparently going to cuddle with Reki on its own accord, whether Langa liked it or not.

Both, he knew, were paths that would take him to an even bigger rift in their already fragile friendship. He wasn’t prepared to test Reki’s loyalty with an unwanted and unexpected show of affection. Langa had already spent the majority of the day trying to gauge how much he had managed to piss Reki off by using him as a sleep aid the night before. Reki said he was OK, but would he still be fine if the same thing happened tonight?

“Oy,” Reki said quietly from behind. “You’re blocking the door.”

Langa leapt out of the way with a sound that should have come from a small mammal, prompting Reki to shush him with a finger over his mouth. He mouthed an apology for the outburst and hurried to the bathroom himself, his cheeks hot with embarrassment.

He was overthinking things again. Living in his own head was always his weakness, and Langa knew that the only way out was to communicate.

So after he had washed up and they were settling to sleep, he knelt carefully on his side and prepared to make words come out of his mouth.

“Don’t worry about it,” Reki said first, and from the hard look in his eyes he was prepared for a fight. Langa caught himself, knowing he was fully prepared to launch into an apology anyway. “I slept just fine.”

“I…” Langa paused. He didn’t want to get into an argument, but he had to explain himself. Keeping everything to himself would be easy, but he knew it wasn’t healthy. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Reki grinned then, surprisingly. He waved a dismissing hand and laid back on his pillow. “You’re an only child, right? I guess you aren’t used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Sleeping with other people. I’m used to my siblings crawling all over me. This is nothing!” 

Langa blinked in surprise. “So… it’s OK if I am on your futon? I mean, accidentally.” He had to look away, if only to concentrate on not blushing.

Reki was looking away, too, but he was still smiling faintly. “Whatever helps you sleep. You’re the guest here-- be comfortable!”

Langa let out a breath that he might have been holding for an entire day. “Thank goodness,” he said in one breath. “I thought you were going to be pissed off.”

“Over something like that?” Reki laughed. “I’m not that sensitive!”

Reki’s laugh was like a healing balm. Langa setting down under his comforter and for a lingering moment they looked at once another, friends as close as any could be. “Goodnight, Reki,” Langa said softly, letting a bit of the tenderness he felt seep into his tone.

Reki didn’t reply right away. His smile had faded away and he looked somewhat serious. “‘Night, Langa.”


	4. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh must work and not write fanfiction

Kyan Reki was going to hell, and it was for being a liar. 

He woke up the next morning seemingly before anyone else. The room was almost full dark, but it had the quality of a picture that was slowly going to gain colour as the sun took to the sky. It was colder than usual-- the open window was letting in a cool, wet air that suggested it might rain. 

Langa’s arm was heavy again where it lay over Reki’s chest. His face was buried in Reki’s arm, his sleeping expression lost in the folds of the neon yellow shirt. Lying on his back, Reki was able to turn his head to check, making sure his movements weren’t disturbing his friend.

The feeling that was bubbling up in his chest this morning was not just the guilt for having lied to his friend. Yes, his siblings had shared his bed many times in the past, but it was in no way the same as this. This was certainly not ‘nothing’. 

But the other feeling that was emerging was not annoyance as Langa had feared. It was a deep sense of indulgence that only served to make Reki feel more guilty. He was taking advantage of Langa’s naivety to explore a feeling that was blossoming somewhere in his stomach and licking through his bloodstream like wildfire. The heat coming off of Langa’s arm and face were adding to the flames, until Reki was sure his skin was as red as a hot coal. But it felt good, too, and he was afraid he was going to let the fire burn him from the inside out.

A cool breeze fluttered over his face, and he snapped out of the reverie. He took a steadying breath, watching Langa’s arm rise and fall with the expansion of his diaphragm. He had to think logically: where should he go from here? Should he squash these strange, hot feelings deep down inside? It would be a lot easier once Langa went back home and Reki could get used to sleeping alone again. Then he would only have to see him every morning, all day at school, and every night they went skateboarding. Easy, right?

The other alternative was almost unthinkable. How could he possibly tell Langa how he was feeling? Forget the horrible embarrassment of admitting warm melty feelings to your best friend, there was also the distinct issue of gender: Reki was fairly certain he was supposed to harbor these feelings for a girl. Langa would probably tell him the same. 

And yet.

Miscommunication had nearly been the death of their friendship in the past. Leaving things unsaid felt wrong, and he had promised Langa not to lie to him anymore.

Reiki chewed on his lower lip, torn and conflicted. He needed a second opinion.

\--------------------------

Langa always thought he was a pretty honest person. He chalked it up to his cluelessness-- he just wasn’t very good at knowing what things were supposed to be said and which were best kept to himself. People were always telling him he was too honest, in fact.

So why did it feel like he was lying every time feigned sleep in the morning?

At first it was the unwillingness to be awake: these past two mornings he woke up in such a comfortable haze of warmth that he thought he might slip blissfully back into unconsciousness. After a moment, he realized that he had, once again, clutched onto Reki in his sleep, closing the gap between them and providing some of that blessed lulling warmth. Instead of rolling off when he realized his position, he stayed, keeping his eyes shut even as Reki shifted to indicate he was awake.

It wasn’t just about being comfortable, he realized. It was indulgence. Sweet, sweet indulgence.

\---------------------

Joe once met a woman in America who worked as a bartender. She was a tall, formidable woman with more tattoos than he had and a mess of brilliant, orange hair. In Okinawa, she would have stood out, but under the neon lights of San Francisco, she fit right in. His English was good enough at the time that he had what he thought was a meaningful conversation with the woman. It was early afternoon and not very busy, and she gave him her ear as well as a few particularly interesting new cocktails. When she found out he was a cook, they had even more to talk about.

What was the difference between being a bartender and being a chef, he wanted to know. What she said was this: The job of a bartender is more than half therapist. She spent most of her day listening to customers and giving advice, not unlike what she was doing with Joe. 

If Joe was to go back and talk to her again, he would have to disagree with her. Sitting at his own bar, listening to teenagers talk about their awkward lives had become something of a staple to his day.

To be fair, all Reki had done at this point is sit and stare at his empty bowl, apparently deep in thought. It was not too hard to guess that he was waiting for the right words to come to him before asking Joe for a piece of advice. 

Joe leaned on one hand, observing the kid with mild interest. What would the problem be this time? Skating? Girls? No, of course not. Judging by the rapid change in the colour of Reki’s ears it was probably something closer to his heart.

“Uhm, so,” Reki started, after what seemed like hours. He was fidgeting with one chopstick, and it kept clacking on the table in a way that was no less than irritating. He was one of those kids who probably never sat still. “Can I ask you something? Nothing-- uh, nothing personal. Just, a friend of mine. He’s having some trouble and I don’t know what to tell him.”

 _Of course, a friend_ , Joe mused with an internal sigh.

“And you think I can help him?”

Reki glanced sideways quickly before dropping his gaze again. “Well, you’re old, right? I- I mean, _older_.”

“Thanks,” Joe said with sarcasm.

“And I thought you knew a lot about people, and stuff.” Reki was starting to mumble, which could only mean the ‘stuff’ was going to be something deeply embarrassing for him. Joe summoned all the patience he had left, despite the busy afternoon he had just managed to survive. Reki was lucky the dinner rush hadn’t started yet and Joe was able to lend him some time.

“Sure, I know about 'stuff',” Joe said, offering an easy smile. 

Reki frowned, as if realizing Joe was making fun of him. At least the change in demeanor seemed to loosen him up. He let out an exasperated breath and let his chopstick fall on the table. “I just-- My friend: he’s having problems with his best friend. Like, um… personal problems.”

Joe waited. He could fill in the blanks, but it was easier to wait for the kid to talk. He could guess already where the conversation was going. Reki’s ‘friend’ was an open book, and his ‘best friend’ was even worse. 

After another moment of struggling for words, during which Reki reclaimed his fallen chopsticks to push around the bits of food at the bottom of his bowl, he finally forced something out. “He’s got this thing with his friend, where he wants to, like, c-cuddle. Or whatever.” Joe had never seen someone turn that shade of red so quickly. The kid’s face must feel like a million degrees.

So, there had been some progression for Reki’s ‘friend’, albeit much less than Joe would have made at that age. He supposed the intimacy level of hugging was different for everyone, and for someone as green as Reki’s ‘friend’, it was probably a huge step forward. 

“OK, so where’s the problem?”

Reki chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, a bad habit that was starting to turn it red. “They are both dudes.”

“Is that a problem?”

Reki blinked in surprise and looked up at Joe. His lips parted slightly before he clamped them shut and went back to playing with his leftovers. “For some people.”

“Is it a problem for your friend? Or his best friend?”

Reki didn’t seem to have a clear answer for that one, so Joe took a deep breath and pressed on.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. All that matters is that your friend feels, and what his best friend feels in return. So long as they are both on board, the rest doesn’t matter.” To be fair, it was advice that even he was struggling to follow, but it was easier to say than to do. Maybe if Reki’s ‘friend’ worked out his feelings Joe might become the one listening to advice. 

Reki seemed to still be digesting the words, though he had stopped fidgeting and gnawing on his lip. His ears and neck remained a scarlet red, but at least he looked thoughtful. “So, he needs to find out what his best friend is thinking,” he said quietly, as if to himself.

Joe patted Reki on the shoulder, jolting him a little but still communicating his support to the young man. “Good luck, Reki,” he said gently, smiling and leaving the table before Reki could deny his personal involvement.


	5. Wednesday Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughs in going-to-get-fired*

The rain was a soft haze by the time Reki left Joe’s restaurant, with fat, warm drops that seemed to fall in slow motion. A low rumble of thunder suggested more was over the horizon, marking the beginning of the rainy season. The rain was a welcome change from the sticky hot onset of the summer and for a moment Reki relished the feeling of the drops on his face before realizing he didn’t have an umbrella and resorting to using his skateboard for shelter.

The skaters of Okinawa were no strangers to the rain, and the pros certainly didn’t let a few drops stop them from skating. It added a level of danger to what might otherwise be a smooth ride, as the rain mixed with the dry dust on the paths to make the way slick and slippery.

There were fewer people gathered at S that evening, the rain driving the more junior skaters away. There would be no beefs tonight, but a fair number of thrill chasers. Langa had been predictably excited about trying to skate in the rain and Reki met him there after convincing his mother that they needed to meet with friends for a study session (just kidding, she wasn’t convinced at all).

The other thing Reki enjoyed about the rain was that it was hard to notice things like blushing and awkward glances when you were busy trying to keep the water out of your eyes and your feet planted on a slick board. Langa was on his deck and heading carefully down the path before Reki could barely say two words to him, and why not? They were here to skate and skating was easier than any embarrassing conversations that Reki could work up the courage to start.

It was exhilarating as always. At speed, the drops looked like they were going sideways, splitting a path for the rider down the middle. The corners already had tire treads in the mud and they had to be careful to avoid the deeper stuff. Langa hit a puddle at full speed and nearly lost it in a spin, and when Reki sped past he laughed, telling him to watch. He hit the next puddle at an angle that caused a huge rooster tail to arc sideways like a tsunami. Of course, Langa emulated easily, laughing all the while.

They went down the track twice more, keeping warm by trudging back up the hill each time, talking excitedly about those moments they nearly lost traction or hit a huge puddle and got soaked. It was like going down a waterslide-- no, better. They were wet through, the umbrella forgotten at the top of the hill, but they didn’t care. They were kept warm by the sheer joy of skating.

Being blind to the cold and the wet was not the smartest way to skate, however. No matter how much fun they were having, their bodies were affected. Reki started to notice how slow his muscles were responding, and judging by how often Langa teetered on the turns, he imagined his friend was starting to notice the same.

It was only an hour later when they made their last run down, cut short by a significant wipe out that sent Reki skidding through the mud. The only thought that made it through his head when he ate it was how grateful he was that he was sliding on mud and not pavement. He came to rest near the edge of the path, on his back, letting the rain fall on his face. He stayed a moment, panting and taking mental note of any places that hurt badly enough for him to panic.

“Reki!” Langa had been ahead of him, but Reki must have made a fun sound when he went and drew his friend’s attention. Now Langa was running over, board under arm. “Are you OK?”

Reki sat up, still somewhat dazed. Nothing hurt terribly, beyond the arm that he skidded on. When he lifted his sopping wet sleeve, he found it was scraped from his wrist to his elbow. “Ah, not bad,” he said between breaths. “It would suck to break something again.”

Langa wore a predictably worried expression that made Reki want to reach out and muss up his hair, except that his shiny mop was plastered to his face from the rain. Reki probably didn’t look much better. He shivered.

“Do you want to go home?” Langa asked, sounding too much like a mother. Reki didn’t mind. Now that he wasn’t moving he felt how wet he was, right down to his socks. As the night went on it was getting colder and he could feel a wrack of goosebumps travel over his skin. His arm, though not badly damaged, throbbed painfully. He smiled.

“Getting tired?”

Langa frowned and knelt down by his friend. Then he grabbed Reki’s wrist and pulled back the sleeve. “This is the same arm you broke, Reki.”

Reki cringed. “It’s fine! Just need to clean up a bit.” He twisted, looking at the line of mud up the side of his body, then felt his face, his hand coming away brown with mud. He laughed out loud.

Langa cracked a smile. “Come on. Time to go.”

\------------------------------------------

It wasn’t often that Reki got scolded for being out late, even if his mother had full knowledge of his nighttime whereabouts, but the rain made her sleep poorly and it was usually on these nights that she was waiting in the kitchen, anxious to make sure her son had arrived safely home.

When the boys came in like wet dogs, mud spattered and sodden, she turned an angry eye on Reki. However, instead of the usual lecture she would have unleashed, she tapped him lightly on the head with a scowl. “Make sure you let Langa use the bath first.” And with that she bustled off to bed. 

Reki grinned guiltily at Langa, though he was secretly glad his friend had been there to soften the blow. Likely his mother didn’t want to yell at Reki while his friend was present, though it didn’t mean she wasn’t saving it for another day.

The bath helped with the mud and some of the blood, but the way home had been long and cold, and Reki was chilled to the bone. No matter how hot he made the water, he was still shivering in his pajama shorts by the time he got to the bedroom. Any awkwardness he may have felt in getting into bed tonight was replaced by a deep desire to be wrapped in blankets and cozy on the futon. He dove in, pulling the comforter up to his chin and shimmying back and forth a few times to nest as deeply as he could in his pillow.

Langa looked unaffected, but wore a small smile when Reki met his gaze. He was still damp, and his hair stuck to the side of his face. Just looking at him made Reki shiver from an empathetic chill. “You need to dry your hair before you sleep, dummy.”

Langa blinked with his trademark clueless expression before reaching up for a lock of hair, feeling the wet strands between finger and thumb. “I usually just let it dry on it’s own.”

Reki let out an exasperated sigh and sat up, ignoring the wave of shivers that assaulted his bare arms. “You can’t go to sleep like that,” he said, feeling like the mother himself. “Come here.” He grabbed Langa’s neatly folded towel and before his friend had barely leaned over he was rubbing his hair with the towel, causing Langa to squawk like a bird. The vigour of the movement made Langa knock knees with his friend and he reached out to grab Reki’s legs to steady himself. The intimate gesture almost made Reki drop the towel.

“Hold still,” he muttered, glad the towel was blocking Langa from seeing his red face.

“Reki,” Langa said, somewhat muffled. Reki lifted the towel the smallest amount to meet a pair of entreating blue eyes. He swallowed thickly. “Your legs are so cold.”

“I’m no good with the cold,” Reki admitted, finishing off the drying job with a few last rubs that made Langa wince. “I’ve never seen the snow except when we went to Hokkaido three years ago.”

“That’s terrible,” Langa said, in a soft voice that was full of nothing but sympathy. Reki snorted a laugh through his nose.

“Is it?”

“Snow is wonderful,” Langa went on, looking down at his hands which he had since retracted from Reki’s legs. “And beautiful.”

“I know,” Reki said, half meaning to keep the thought in his head.

Langa looked up, a slightly curious look on his face. Then he smiled. “Next time you go to Hokkaido, we’ll go snowboarding!”

“Yeah!”

“And I’ll teach you everything I know. I know you will be amazing at it.” Langa’s eyes were almost sparkling from the prospect. “I hear the slopes there are great. Not long ranges like in Canada but huge pointy mountains that reach into the clouds! The powder there has got to be _perfect_.”

Reki watched with enthusiasm as Langa unfolded, his mouth racing as fast as his mind. He could almost see the snow and he shivered again from the cold and anticipation. “I’m so ready for that.”

“After we graduate this year,” Langa said, with no hint of irony. He was completely serious. “Graduation trip!”

Reki grinned. “OK!” Instinctively they clapped hands together, riding the wave of energy and enthusiasm. A moment later there was a rap at the door.

“You two: keep it down and go to sleep!” Reki’s mother hissed through the closed door.

They lay in bed for a time after that, as Langa quietly described the mountains and how it felt to be surrounded by pine trees, snow and the brilliant, blinding sun. It was impossible not to be carried away by his emphatic words, clearly describing something deeply personal and special. He talked like a person in love, and Reki was unable to take his eyes away from his face. Even in the dark he could see how beautifully joyful his friend was. He watched until his heart was aching.

When they fell silent the cold creeped back in, forcing Reki to pull the covers back up to his chin. The only way he could bear being in the cold mountains would be if Langa was there. Even now, he longed for the feeling of a body pressed against his and a warm arm pulling him even closer. He let himself fall headfirst into the fantasy, shivering all the while.

“Are you still cold?” Langa whispered in the dark. 

“Nn,” Reki grunted.

“Do you need another blanket?”

“Maybe.”

There was a moment of hesitation where he thought Langa was legitimately getting up to find a blanket in a house that wasn’t his own. Reki sighed and shifted to stand, but Langa caught his arm.

“Uh,” Langa said, if you could call that a word.

“What?” Reki whispered in reply. Langa didn’t answer right away, and in that moment an anxious feeling settled in the room like a low cloud.

“I can, uhm,” Langa muttered on. He hadn’t let go of Reki’s arm, though his grip was gentle and his hand warm.

Reki sat down and swallowed thickly. Then he wet his lips and prepared to talk, though words were not coming out for him any easier than Langa. Somehow he could tell what Langa might be suggesting, but maybe it was just Reki’s wishful thinking. He wanted to believe it, but the doubt was what kept him from speaking.

“Sorry,” Langa was saying now. “I can get you a blanket.”

“No,” Reki blurted, a little louder than he had intended. He adjusted his volume and continued. “If we, just...” He made a vague gesture that could mean anything. “Like, siblings.”

“Yeah,” Langa said quickly. “If you don’t mind.”

Reki nodded in the dark in a jerky movement. Awkwardly he got back under the covers and laid down. Langa was shifting closer, moving his weight onto Reki’s futon. As he did Reki turned away, so that Langa could settle behind him. They were almost the same height, but they fit well in this configuration.

Then, somehow both quickly and impossibly slow, Langa snaked an arm around Reki’s waist, settling his hand just under the latter’s chest. “You’re so cold,” he said, close to Reki’s ear. A shiver ran up Reki’s spine.

“You’re so warm.”

Tentatively and carefully, Reki took the hand that wasn’t under his pillow and inched it closer to Langa’s arm, until their bare arms were touching, transferring heat. Then, feeling bold, he kept moving until his hand was positioned over Langa’s. A wave of warm embarrassment ran over his body.

But Langa didn’t pull away. Instead he loosened his grip, opening his fingers to let Reki’s fall between his own, until they were laced together neatly. Then he closed his grip, locking them together. 

Reki let out a small, shuddering breath and wondered how the hell he was supposed to sleep that night.


	6. Thursday

Langa slept for a long time that night. Hugging Reki’s cold body was like sleeping in a snowbank after all the hot nights he had experienced in Okinawa. By the time the chill had faded, Langa was already lulled into a deep sleep and didn’t wake until a crash of thunder shook the ceiling above their heads. 

The sky outside was light, despite the heavy dark clouds, fat with water and storm. The rain was going sideways, beating on the window pane. It almost drowned out the sound of commotion in the kitchen: for once, they had woken up late.

Reki snorted in his sleep, startling himself and causing him to rouse. “Storm’s come,” he murmured as Langa pulled his hand away, careful not to drag his fingers along the fabric of Reki’s shirt. As he did Reki’s hand followed his absently, as if reaching to pull him back. Before he could, he opened his eyes and seemed to realize what he was doing. “Mornin’.”

Something fluttered in the back of Langa’s throat and into his stomach. “Good morning.” He wanted to linger there, next to Reki and comfortable in the intimacy of waking up. Reki was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and opened his mouth impossibly wide for a yawn. Langa watched all the while, knowing the instant they made eye contact the moment would end.

Another crash in the kitchen and a wail from a small child both snapped them out of the slow morning routine. Shortly it was followed by a ‘Rekiiii, Langaaaa-- you’ll be late!’.

The rain didn’t let up all the way to school and they donned rain gear for the ride over (Langa had to borrow a coat that was much too big for him), since the wind would take an umbrella like a kite. Reki told a story about how they would use umbrellas like sails when they were kids, sitting on their skateboards and being propelled over the wet pavement. Langa cherished a small glimpse of Reki as a young boy, laughing with friends and covered in Band-Aids.

It was their last year in high school, but they were still in the first semester. While skating had managed to govern their priority lists, Langa and Reki both managed to attend classes regularly. Neither of them were doing exceptionally well, but held mediocre to low scores compared to the rest of the school. What Reki lacked in grades, he made up for in popularity. Everyone in their year seemed to know his name, and they were greeted on the way past the gate, even as everyone ran to avoid the rain.

It wasn’t that Langa was unpopular, per se. His classmates were friendly and being with Reki meant you met everyone, whether you wanted to or not. But Langa was the reserved one and even when he was in the middle of a group, he felt distanced. The only time he felt truly himself was when he and Reki were alone.

By the time they got to class, they had been stopped several times in the hallway. Reki showed off his bandaged arm to at least 3 different people, joking about his fall like he always did. Langa stood comfortably in the radius of his glow, laughing along with everyone else and soaking up the sun.

They were about to settle in their seats at the back of the class when Reki was called on yet again. While he was friendly with the girls as much as the boys, there was something different about the body language of the girl who stood by the doorway. Langa didn’t recognize her, but there was something familiar in her shy stance-- the way she held both her hands together in front of her, how often she blinked, and, yes, even a faint blush on her cheeks.

Langa’s stomach rolled over.

Reki came back to the desk after a short conversation that Langa hadn’t managed to hear. His face had fallen slightly, as if he was thinking hard. In his hand was a letter that he didn’t look at as he tossed it on Langa’s desk. “For you.”

Langa blinked in surprise before looking back over to the doorway. The girl was gone, and now he wished he had tried harder to remember if he knew her. “From who?”

“Hikaru Shibata from Class A,” Reki supplied in a voice that was a little less spirited than he had been before. He lowered his head into his crossed arms, as if he was already ready to fall asleep in class. 

“Why?”

Reki looked slightly annoyed for a moment. “Haven’t you gotten a letter before?”

Langa knew he was clueless at times, but honestly, he grew up in Canada where no one wrote things on paper anymore. What was the point when you had a cell phone? “Not really.” He turned the letter over in his hands. On one side, in neat writing, was his full name and class letter. It was definitely for him. 

It all became quite clear after he had finally read the contents. He felt a warm sweep of embarrassment over his neck as he read the earnest confessions of a girl with feelings for him. It was almost hard to read her description of him: the quiet, handsome one who sat at the back of class. She went on to wonder what he was thinking about and how if they dated, she would listen to all of his thoughts. 

Langa wondered how much this girl would want to hear him ramble about skateboarding all day.

At the end, she indicated wanting to meet him after school and left her email. Langa turned over the letter to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. “What do I do?”

Reki was still frowning slightly, though he hid part of his face behind his arms on the desk. His brows were furrowed and his voice slightly muffled. “What do you want to do?”

Langa didn’t have an answer for that. In Canada, a girl had once asked him if he wanted to go out with her friend. He had declined. It had been as simple as that. This letter business just seemed so complicated. “I guess I’ll meet her,” he said slowly. “Is that right?”

Reki shrugged heavily, his eyes sliding to the front of class. “It’s up to you, man.”

Langa couldn’t shrug the feeling that Reki wasn’t happy with the situation. After the jubilation of the morning, from waking up together to greeting everyone in school, this turn of behaviour was jarring. A sense of panic was rising in Langa’s throat. He had to break the tension.

He reached over and suddenly ruffled Reki’s hair, exactly in the way that would happen in reverse. Reki squawked predictably, making Langa laugh and the headband go askew. Inevitably, Reki started to laugh as well, until the homeroom teacher came in and barked at them to quiet down. Langa offered one more smile to his friend before the school day began.

\-------------------------

Reki boarded home through the heavy downpour, disturbing puddles and the occasional frog. The wind had died down and there was nothing but the white noise of rain and the occasional car. The sun seemed to set early on rainy days, the black clouds blotting out the sun. 

“Damnit,” he said out loud to no one. This was ridiculous. This entire situation was far too familiar: him alone in the rain, thinking about Langa, and feeling the pull of that downward spiral. It was stupid, really. He had told himself that he wouldn’t let this happen between himself and Langa again. 

He knew exactly what the problem was this time. It wasn’t about skating, it was entirely about all the messy, complex feelings that Reki had for his friend. It was jealousy and yearning and disappointment. It was knowing, for sure now, that he wanted Langa to see him in the same way that he might someday see a girl.

The way he might see a girl right now.

He had parted with Langa back at school when his friend said that he had to meet someone. It was clear who he was talking about, though Langa was just vague and awkward enough about it that maybe he didn’t want Reki to know. Maybe it was because Langa was seriously considering dating this girl. Maybe he was already together with her.

Reki’s heart squeezed so painfully at the thought that he felt a wave of nausea overtake him and he had to stop on the side of the road to catch his breath. How could they go from the perfect morning to this horrible feeling in only one day? He could feel a burning behind his eyes as tears started to gather. Why did liking someone so much make you feel so shitty at the same time?

Sometime in the day Langa’s mother had been by the Kyan house with some fresh clothing and a raincoat. With the items was also a long pillow-- no doubt she was worried her son wasn’t sleeping well without it. Reki sat with the pillow for a long time in his room, back against his desk and knees gathered in front of him. He hugged it tight and wondered if it was really better than hugging him.

He got a text from Langa to say he was spending dinner with his mother. Reki responded with an emoji-- it was the best he could muster under present circumstances. He ate very little at dinner and continued to spend the rest of the evening doing what he did best in these situations: moped.

Langa was dropped off by his mother in the car. Reki’s heart sped up at the sound of the engine and the door slamming, and he peered out of his window to see Langa ducking between the gates and running for the door. Reki’s mom was cleaning up in the kitchen and he heard her greet Langa.

By the time his friend had opened the door, Reki had arranged himself carefully on his futon with a magazine, as if he had no care in the world. He mustered up the best smile he could in greeting. “How was dinner?”

“We went to Joe’s restaurant,” Langa said, shaking the last of the rain out of his hair. He reached for the towel before sitting on his own futon. At least he had learned to dry himself off properly. “Is that my body pillow?”

Reki had left the pillow hunched over by his desk. He felt a small leap in his chest-- he still hadn’t figured out how best to give it to his friend. 

“My mom was worried I wasn’t sleeping,” Langa said, smiling with some fondness as he took the pillow into his lap.

Reki concentrated on the pictures of the magazine. “Were you?”

Langa didn’t answer right away. Reki stopped himself from glancing over, but knew there was a clueless look on his face. 

“I’ve… been sleeping fine.”

“Well, good thing the pillow is here now.” Reki had said these words with a little more force than he had intended. He tried to keep a straight face as he stared at the magazine, but it was a struggle. He wanted to read his friend’s face. He wanted to ask him how his meeting went with that girl. 

“Ah, yeah,” Langa said softly. “Good thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue palm trees*


	7. Friday

Langa put his head in his hands, thumbs on his temple and palms on his forehead. The headache that had been building since that morning was reaching an apex in the middle of class. It had started sharp behind his eyes and now the pain had spread to his temples and the front of his brain. If he put pressure on his temples, it felt a little better, but not nearly enough.

There was also the deep fatigue that was turning his stomach and making his eyes water. All he could do was drink more cold coffee and try desperately not to fall asleep on the desk. Again.

The only time he managed to shake it off and smile was when Reki was talking to him. It wasn’t hard to pretend he was being an airhead instead of imagining what it might feel like to go back to bed. He did it for Reki’s sake as well as his own-- he didn’t want to make his friend feel sorry for him. 

It was bad enough that Langa had the vague theory that Reki was somehow angry with him. He wasn’t showing it as obviously as last time, but there was a subtle change in his voice, and the way he glanced at Langa only when he was looking away suggested he didn't want to make eye contact. He made lame jokes every once in a while, half hearted attempts to emulate the friendship that they had before, but it was all forced.

Not to mention Reki looked about as tired as Langa felt. All night he had been tossing, rolling on the futon like a pinwheel and constantly readjusting his pillow. Langa had tried not to toss quite so much, hugging his pillow and pressing his eyes shut in some desperate attempt to fall asleep. He wouldn’t say that Reki kept him awake-- Langa was usually a heavy sleeper, after all-- but something about these past few nights had completely turned his usual sleeping pattern on its head.

They didn’t talk much that morning. They rode in the rain in half silence. They only passed minor comments during class. They were caught in a painful juxtaposition between a friendship and an argument. If only Reki would just blow up on Langa; At least then he would understand what the problem was and try to do some damage control.

In the meanwhile, he was going to be sleeping terribly. When Langa imagined that night, he winced. Who was to say his exhaustion would help him sleep? What if he never slept properly again? 

Worse, what if he never made up with Reki?

By the end of the day, the headache was so bad that Langa insisted he had to go home immediately. No extra skateboarding, dinners with his mother, or meetings with random girls who you have to disappoint. He just wanted to lie down. He just wanted to lie down with Reki.

Reki took twice as long in the bath that night. The rain was doing a number on him and he continued to look cold and miserable any time they came in from the deluge. There was thunder again tonight, rolling around the sky and back again after each flash of lightning. It was almost exciting, if it didn’t play havoc with Langa’s already sensitive head. He lay on his futon, eyes closed and arms over his face, going over his speech again and again in his mind.

It wasn’t going to be easy. He was going to have to break down and say some things that were not only embarrassing, but things that were also going to put Reki in an awkward spot. Usually Langa would have bent over backwards for him, but he was getting desperate. If he didn’t have two things by the end of the conversation, he was done for:

1\. Sleep  
2\. Reki

The moment Reki walked in the door Langa sprang up. He tucked his feet under himself and put his hands on his knees. “I’m sorry!” he said at once.

Reki looked stunned, his towel still around his neck and his hand on the door. He didn’t speak for several moments, which was just as well because Langa had more to say and he was having trouble forcing his mouth to say it.

“I know I’m not a great roommate,” he pressed on. “And I have been imposing on you this whole week--”

Reki closed the door with a snap and put his hands up. “Woah, woah. Slow down. What are you apologizing for?”

“For--” Langa hesitated for a half a heart beat. “For what I am about to ask.”

Reki looked panicked for a moment. He did not sit down.

Langa took a breath and closed his eyes. “CanIspoonwithyoutonight?” he said in one breath, bowing his head so that his hair fell over his eyes. He felt the colour immediate rise in his cheeks. The hot feeling was almost more than the throbbing headache that persisted behind his eyes.

The silence that followed was deafening. Langa waited, but he couldn’t look up. He couldn’t bear to see the face that Reki was making.

Finally, Reki took a few steps forward and fell heavily into a sit on his own futon. He crossed his legs and when Langa finally snuck a look at him, Reki was studying his own hands closely with-- was that embarrassment?-- on his face.

“Langa,” Reki started slowly. “That-- Doing that…” He was mumbling, almost as if he was talking to himself. “That’s something you should do with the girl you like.”

Langa knew that was the answer he was going to get. Of course, that was what Reki believed. He felt his chest cave a little. “I don’t…. I don’t have a girl I like,” he admitted quietly, unable to keep the disappointment out of his tone.

“I mean,” Reki went on. “A girl you-- you _might_ like. A girl you might date.” Langa looked at him again. Reki’s ears were red and he was unable to meet his gaze.

“I don’t want to date a girl.”

If the pause before was deafening, this one made it seem like they had suddenly been expelled into the vacuum of space. Langa felt like his face had been completely replaced by a vat of molten steel. The headache was a long lost memory. 

_I said it,_ was what he kept repeating in his head. _I said it I said it I said it._

“You,” said Reki slowly, and there was a strange quality to his voice, as though he had no air in his lungs. “Don’t want to sleep beside a girl?”

Langa could only shake his head vigorously. 

“But… me?”

Langa looked up suddenly, as if he realized just then what they were talking about. “It’s OK,” he blurted. “We don’t have to. It’s fine. Really.” He made an instinctive grab for his body pillow, but Reki caught his arm. Langa saw that he wore a shade of red that was similar to his own.

“It’s--” squeaked Reki. Then he cleared his throat and pulled his hand away from Langa. “It’s OK with me. I mean, I want to. Maybe we'll both sleep better.” 

Langa could have lingered on the nagging doubt in his mind. He might have questioned Reki’s motivations and reasonings. He could tell himself that this was all because Reki felt sorry for him. 

But he didn’t care anymore. He was tired, and he just wanted to gather Reki up in his arms and fall asleep in that embrace. He wanted to breathe deep and have his nose filled with Reki’s scent. He wanted to feel the goosebumps on his skin and the soft heartbeat in his chest.

Langa crumpled into himself instead, catching his face in his hands and releasing an enormous breath. “Thank god,” he said earnestly. Then he reached over and grabbed Reki’s shirt, pulling him into an indulgent hug that wasn’t meant to be for anyone but himself. He pressed his face into the crook between Reki’s neck and shoulder.

“L-Langa,” Reki protested. “You’re heavy! You can’t just sleep here.”

“Why not,” Langa all but whined. “I’m so tired.”

Reki let out a small laugh that was more air than anything else. “OK,” he said calmly, patting his friend on the back. “Let’s go to sleep.”

They curled so easily into their preferred position, Langa clinging to Reki so desperately that he was sure Reki was going to regret giving in. He pressed himself even closer than usual, rubbing his face on the other’s back and taking a fistful of shirt on the front. If only for tonight, Langa was going to let himself enjoy this. If only for tonight, he was going to pretend Reki was his.


	8. Saturday

Even before Reki opened his eyes, he knew the sun was back in the sky. A bird was singing beyond his window, the only sound in an otherwise silent morning. The room was warm and dry and when he opened his eyes a small shaft of sunlight was cresting the window pane. 

Langa’s arm was where it belonged on his waist, limp and heavy. They were not so close as they had been last night, but he could hear the other’s soft breaths just behind his ear. Reki turned on the pillow ever so slowly, until he was face to face with his sleeping friend. 

Langa’s face was half hidden in the pillow, his lips were parted gently and his hair splayed around him. Every so often his eye moved under its lid and his lashes moved a nearly inscrutable amount-- barely a flutter.

Reki’s eyes traced down Langa’s nose to his lips and rested there. They looked so much softer than his own-- he probably never chomped on them like Reki did. On an impulse, Reki shimmied ever so slowly forward. He stopped just short of touching noses and waited, listening to Langa’s breathing and watching his eyes flutter in sleep. Then he tilted forward the millimetre it took for their noses to touch. 

It would be nothing for him to move even more, ever so slightly, to feel how soft those lips really were.

Langa sighed in his sleep and Reki backed off, a little ways, so that he could watch his friend pull himself into wakefulness. It was like watching the sun rise.

A phone suddenly buzzed loudly on the desk behind their heads and started both of them out of their wits. Reki jumped up, grabbed the phone, then realized it wasn’t his. Luckily Langa was already on his knees and caught it as it was tossed in his direction.

“Hey, mom!” Langa answered into the phone, breathlessly. A pause, and then: “Ah, that was fast. Nn. Nn. OK. See you soon.”

Reki had sat down again, hand over his heart to stop it beating straight out of his chest. Somehow, mothers always knew the perfect time to interrupt. It occurred to him that he was likely never going to live out his fantasies to the fullest so long as he was still living under his mother’s roof. 

“Floors are done,” Langa said looking at his phone while tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. There was something slightly shy about his movements. He looked then to Reki and holding eye contact proved to be the kindle for a fresh new flame of fire in his body. Reki couldn’t help but smile helplessly, translating some of the feeling into his face. Then he finally digested what Langa had said.

“Oh!”

“Mom said I could come home after school.”

“Oh.”

Langa looked back at the phone. “And she said to invite you to dinner.”

“Oh!”

Langa then laughed at Reki, who grinned before jumping to his feet. The clouds from yesterday had parted not just in the sky but over his own head. All the uncertainty and misery he felt yesterday (not to mention the exhaustion) was shucked off to reveal new, shiny emotions. “Today, let’s SKATE,” he said with gumption.

“We skate every day,” Langa said with a grin.

“And we will forever. Everywhere and everyhow!” Reki put out his first and Langa bumped with him before clasping hands loudly. Impulsively he pulled Langa into a tight hug that nearly made them both fall back onto the futons. Reki laughed again, and wouldn’t stop laughing all day. He hugged his family members tightly. He ate with vigour. He smiled at everyone in the street. He missed a landing on a big jump right before the school gates which sent him stumbling over the pavement. Somehow he righted himself in time to catch his board as it tried to escape down the street. A gathering of girls nearby were laughing and Reki took a bow.

On the way into the gates Langa swatted him at the back of the head. “Show off.”

Saturday classes always ended early, and the two spent the rest of the day at the skatepark, not doing anything particularly challenging, but enjoying the simple joys of doing kickflips and ollies. They challenged each other to stupid dares and practiced tricks that were more goofy than difficult. Reki showed Langa how well he could sing while skating and Langa made fun of his English endlessly.

They were late for dinner, but Nanako was so happy to have two boys at her table that she forgave them instantly and provided them so much food that Reki thought he’d be filled for two days straight.

After dinner Nanako wanted to know everything about Reki, and likewise, share everything she could about her son, despite Langa’s protests. She admitted how few friends he’d had before, but that he clearly loved being with Reki very much.

Reki felt his neck and ears get warm at this, but couldn’t bring himself to look at Langa where he sat across from him at the western-style table. Instead he lightly bumped his toe against the other’s leg-- an affectionate touch. Langa nudged him back gently. 

It was getting late, but Reki couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He was enjoying sitting at this table, chatting with Langa’s mother and absently nudging Langa with an idle foot. Though they were a small table, Nanako was a doting mother and found Reki _hilarious_. They talked about Langa the most, much to Reki’s pleasure, and even explained a bit about skateboarding. Reki was surprised she didn’t know much about it-- clearly Langa never brought it up.

By the time Nanako looked at the time it was past dark. “Oh, well,” Nanako said, in a motherly tone. “Won’t you stay over, Reiki? It’s too far to go in the dark.”

It wasn’t too far, but Reki looked and Langa and couldn’t deny the strong urge to stay together a little longer. Even if all he could do was touch him softly, be it on the nose or with his foot, each time he was filled with a warm pleasure and a hot feeling all over. He would relish it as long as he could.

Of course, with only 2 people to occupy it, the house had plenty rooms, which meant Reki had a whole guest room to himself. He borrowed a shirt and shorts from Langa which, he thought guiltily, smelled just like him. It was a bed not unlike the one he had recently broken and after settling in he sighed with a mixture of longing and muted happiness. Staring at the white ceiling of the clean room, he let his mind wander. 

Was this going to be the extent of his intimacy with his best friend? Was he going to have to seek out moments that would force them to sleep side by side? Was he wrong in wanting it to be so?

 _“All that matters is that your friend feels, and what his best friend feels in return.”_ The memory of Joe’s advice suddenly came back to him. The older skater was right-- it didn’t matter what they were calling it, or what other people thought, or what might happen in the future. All they had was right now and the fact that the desire for cuddling was mutual. 

Reki swung his legs out of the bed and stood up.

\----------------------

Langa lay back in his own bed, surrounded by too many pillows and a blanket that felt too thin, and stared at the ceiling. The burning he had felt for the past week-- or was it longer?-- had not died out all night. Even with his mother at the table. Even when Reki was talking to people at school. Even when they were skating. It was burning fierce even now, as Langa lay alone. 

He never wanted something so badly his whole life. His arms felt empty without his best friend in them. His _heart_ felt empty. He wasn’t sure any amount of food or skating would ever fill him up like holding Reki in his arms. He ached with the want.

 _I have to tell him_ , said part of his brain. _I can’t tell him-- it would ruin everything_ , said the other part.

He groaned, and put his hands over his eyes. 

A small sound alerted Langa that someone was in the hallway. Since the laminate floors had been redone there was almost no creak in them. They would be ideal for sneaking out at night to skate.

Langa sat up in bed just as a quiet knock sounded on his door. His heart started to thunder as he slid out of bed and crossed the room in one long stride. 

Reki looked as startled as he was in the doorway, as if he wasn’t the one who just knocked in the middle of the night. He was in Langa’s shirt and carrying a pillow. 

“Uh,” he started lamely. 

Langa pulled him in by the wrist and closed the door behind him. A sudden desperate hope filled him, but he refrained himself from immediately gathering Reki up in an indulgent hug. He needed to be patient, lest he misread the whole situation. But it was so hard not to hope.

Reki looked embarrassed even in the dark. He was rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to one side. In a mumble he said: “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Langa admitted in a whisper. “Can I get you something?”

Reki looked up into his eyes fleetingly before dropping them again. “Can I stay here?”

Langa struggled once again to not advance directly at Reki. Internally he was screaming, but he kept his face blank even as he said: “Oh course.”

He had the same double bed he had used for all of high school, not so big as two futons together, but it still forced those using it to lie very close together. It didn’t matter-- even on a king sized bed Langa would still have migrated to Reki’s side.

As they settled in, Reki started to move the body pillow over. Langa took it directly out his hands and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. In the darkness it was impossible to tell what reaction this drew from Reki, but inside Langa felt a thrill of butterflies.

They settled down after some shifting, though Langa waited for Reki to be comfortable being deciding how close he was allowed to get. It was excruciating. Reki was _right there_ and Langa felt like he was about to overflow.

“Sorry,” Reki whispered, though it was not clear if he was apologizing for shifting so much, or for something else. “It’s a good thing you’re a heavy sleeper.”

“Not that heavy,” Langa admitted, whether he meant to or not.

“What do you mean?”

Langa felt flushed from embarrassment, but he steadied his breath and kept his gaze carefully on Reki from his spot on the pillow. “I-- I wake up pretty early.”

Reki was quiet for a moment and seemed to be studying the ceiling, then he shifted again to turn to square shoulder with Langa. “Are you saying that you’ve been waking up before me?”

Langa felt a little ashamed at this-- after all, it was as close to lying as he had come in a long time. It would feel good to get it off his chest. “Nn,” he affirmed.

“You were pretending to be asleep?”

Langa grunted another affirmation. He could just make out Reki’s face in the darkness: his eyes were wide and his lips parted in surprise.

“Even-- Even this morning?”

Now Langa was definitely sporting a full body blush. The memory of Reki’s nose brushing against his, so gentle and innocently, sent fireworks through him. “Even this morning,” he whispered. When Reki seemed too stunned to reply Langa reached over a poked him in the cheek. “What were you trying to do to a sleeping person, anyway?”

Reki spluttered. “I-- I wasn’t doing anything! I wouldn’t try to k-kiss a sleeping person or anything. That’s creepy.”

Langa withdrew his hand and instead shimmied closer to Reki’s pillow, so that they were very close. From here he could feel the heat radiating off of his friend’s face. His mind was swimming in heat, too, so strong and intoxicating that his vision almost blurred. “I’m not sleeping now,” he heard himself say.

Langa could hear Reki’s quivering breaths coming slowly out of his mouth. He hadn’t pulled away, but he also hadn’t moved any closer. His eyes were looking down at Langa’s mouth even as his own hung slightly ajar. 

Then, as slow as honey, he moved closer until their nose brushed, just as they had that morning. He lingered there for a heartbeat too long. Langa closed the gap himself, tilting his chin so that their lips met in an impossibly gentle kiss, one that lingered for a moment before they both pulled reluctantly away.

For the next heartbeat their eyes searched one another, looking for a sign that anything was wrong or maybe for permission to do it again. The moment Langa moved Reki was there again, slightly more emphatically but still with the gentleness of a summer breeze. They kissed again, and then a fourth time, so slowly that not a sound was made until Reki let out a long, shivering breath.

“Langa,” he started.

“I like you,” Langa interrupted. His hands found Reki’s under the covers, and he grasped them tightly to emphasize his words. “I like you Reki!”

Reki breathed a small laugh without taking his eyes off of Langa. He looked incredulous. “I-I… me too!” he whispered. “I like you.”

They both let out breathy and awkward laughs, giddy and shivering from the overflow of emotions. Then they kissed again, gently but deliberately, over and over again. Langa found a hold of Reki’s jaw and Reki settled his free arm on Langa’s waist and they let the moment carry them away, until they had been at it for over half an hour.

“Damnit, Langa,” Reki said, breathlessly. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Langa pushed his finger through Reki’s loose hair, admiring everything he could see. “I was afraid of what you thought. I was afraid you’d leave me again.”

Reki grabbed Langa’s cheeks and squeezed them. “You dummy,” he teased. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you. No matter what.”

“Even if I don’t let you sleep?” Langa asked before kissing Reki again, relishing the way his lips felt even after this many contacts. 

Reki laughed even as they kissed. “I’m not the one who gets cranky if he doesn’t sleep.”

“I’ll sleep if I can spoon you.”

“And what will you do if your mother finds out we’re dating and we aren’t allowed to spend the night anymore?”

“I-- oh.”

Reki laughed again. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He kissed Langa again before rolling over and settling into their usual position. Langa gathered him up from behind, hugging him close to his chest and burying his face in his neck.

“Reki?”

“Nn?”

“Are you my boyfriend now?”

Reki didn’t reply right away, but instead turned his face so it was full of pillow. Then, muffled: “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this, I think.


	9. Sunday

It was busy at S that night. There was a brief reprieve from the rain that everyone rushed to take advantage of, and the tracks were packed with skaters of all calibers. There was a buzz in the air, an anticipation for summer and an excitement for those who were still in school. In another month, this place would be even more packed.

Reki and Langa were oblivious. They had headed to S that night almost out of habit, even if it was going to be tricky to get any skating done with all the people. By the time they got there it was clear that it didn’t matter to them how many people were around-- now that they were finally away from families and prying eyes, they crashed into each other like magnets. 

Eventually they would share their news with their families, but until then S was a safe place to be public with their relationship, finding a quiet place off to the side where they could do all those mushy things like looking at each other in silence for long periods and, of course, kissing. As with all new relationships there was a sense of urgency in their physical need for each other, as though any gap between them was wasted air. 

Needless to say, anyone who knew they were was thoroughly disgusted by their overt lovey-dovey routine, and it was Miya who was the first to point it out.

“There are _children_ around,” he emphasized, though he was the youngest one in the entirety of S. “At least find a dark corner to do that stuff in.”

Shadow’s reaction had been nothing less than astonishment. Apparently he was the only one who hadn’t been expecting this outcome, and no one shared in his shock. 

Cherry, with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, came with words of scorn. “You asked _Joe_ for advice? That overgrown womanizing idiot?”

Joe only smiled, giving the two a thumbs up. 

Cherry sneered. “Well, if you want to stay innocent stop listening to him until you’re 18.”

Eventually they did go skating, but ended up quitting early and heading to the skatepark which was much more secluded in comparison. Reki sat on his skateboard, idly rolling back and forth while going between talking to Langa about nothing important and gazing at him with unreserved affection.

“Reki,” Langa asked then, from where he sat on the low wall meant for wallrides. “What was Cherry talking about? About being 18?”

Reki felt a rumble of warmth in the depths of his belly. He smirked at Langa, even if he was too embarrassed to say it out loud. “What do you think?”

Langa seemed to think about this. “18… is how old you need to be to drink in Quebec?”

Reki laughed. “So young! We have to wait until we’re 20. I guess… for a lot of people, 18 means you’re an adult.”

Langa looked up, a pensive expression still on his face. “An adult, huh?” He seemed to muse on that for a while, and then a lightbulb seemed to go off. “Ah! Adult stuff!” 

Reki felt his face dissolve into a full blush. Unable to look at Langa’s earnest face, he hid behind his arms. He had known what Cherry was talking about, but he chose not to reflect on it. It was a fantasy he wasn’t prepared to have in front of other people.

“You turn 18 in the summer,” Langa observed. “My birthday is not until February.”

Reki peeked out again at his friend-- no, his _boyfriend_ \-- a little curious to see what he was getting at, but Langa did not continue. Instead, he stood up and picked up his board. He rode lazily around the park, in a way that told Reki he was thinking. Reki watched him for a time, his pale hair illuminated by the lamps overhead.

They headed home an hour later, having promised their respective mothers that they wouldn’t be back past midnight as per usual. They paused, however, at the lamppost that was the halfway point between their houses.

Langa didn’t say anything but had such a lost look of longing on his face that Reki stepped forward and kissed him soundly. No one was going to be awake to see them anyway.

“Reki,” Langa breathed when they had parted. 

“Nn,” Reki said, as he had many times that day. They were saying each other’s names a _lot_ over the past 24 hours.

“February is too far.”

Reki put two hands on Langa’s shoulders to steady himself as he was overcome with a fit of laughter. Langa’s honesty was too much sometimes, and it was a long time before Reki could control himself. He caught his breath and pulled Langa’s head into a hug, as if he was a child. “We’ll talk about that later,” he said with a hint of mirth still in his tone. Then they parted, kissed again, and said their goodnight’s. 

Before they were too far, Langa called back. Reki turned to face bim, some 40 yards away. “Reki! I like you!”

Reki felt the familiar warm flush of pleasure in his chest. “I like you, too, Langa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! Find me on tumblr: lanceylanceface or twitter: @Theo53629541 if you wanna scream at me
> 
> Should I write a dumb magical AU next? I am sorely tempted...


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